


Mutualism

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Other, Sort Of, Tentacle Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 05:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18986263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Even dreams, and his symbiote makes it a reality.





	Mutualism

**Author's Note:**

> to muna, for the Inspiration/request
> 
> un'betaed!!

Even dreams of being suspended in the air, his body bared to the cool air. Cascabel smiles at him, warm and comforting. He runs a hand along Even’s body, too slow to be clinical, and Even shivers. The tentacles of his hair are at Cascabel’s command, moving without his control, slick as they twine around his body. He gasps, and the hair twists together to form a thicker strand, pushing it’s way past his lips, stretching his mouth wider. Cascabel cups his cheek, the callused skin of his palm cool on Even’s overheated skin.

 

He strains towards Cascabel, fingers gasping empty air as his hair holds him back. Cascabel smiles, running a thumb along Even’s bottom lip. He looks pleased, which only confirms to Even how in control Cascabel truly is, how much he is completely at Cascabel’s mercy.

 

The cords of his hair snake around his body, pulling him tighter and he gasps, heat striking through him, and jerks awake.

 

His hair is coiled around him like it was in the dream. The symbiote tends to take over more of the control of his body while he sleeps, although normally it doesn’t do much more than keep him steady against the rocking of the ship. Tonight, his hair is tight around his body, binding his arms to the pole that his hair normally grips to keep him steady. 

 

Even watches as another strand curls itself around his wrists, letting the muscles of his arms go loose as the strand pulls his hands higher above his head, pinning them to the ceiling. He can still touch the floor, barely, but he has no way to get purchase on it, no way to effect the motion of his own body. He presses his lips together, letting out a long breath. He can feel his pulse, still quickened from the dream, pounding through him.

 

“You saw the dream, huh?” says Even, voice quiet so as not to wake the others.

 

In response, a strand of hair circles his neck, leaving behind a synthetic residue, cool in the night-cycle air of the ship. Even shudders as it curls tighter for a moment and then lets go, sliding lazily down his chest. He’s not as sensitive, generally, as he used to be, but everything feels heightened from the dream. The movement of his hair leaves him gasping, biting at his lip to muffle a noise as the tentacle of hair circles his nipples, making them slick.  


 

Slowly, two other thick cords of hair trail down his body, twisting around his legs, pulling his legs further apart. His toes curl on the cool metal floor, and he swallows hard. 

 

Arousal is different in this new body, building slower, thudding through, driving out other thought. It’s impossible to ignore, even if he weren’t being spread out like this, tendrils of hair teasing over him.

 

Two more strands come down across him, one playing over his chest and the other caressing his cheek, teasing over his mouth just enough for Even to understand what the symbiote wants. He opens his mouth like he had done in the dream, working his tongue over the cord of hair as it presses into him. It’s a strange taste, stranger still for the slick substance it produces in moments like these, sharp and metallic on his tongue.

 

He feels another press at his lips and opens his mouth wider to accommodate it, moaning a little at the stretch. He can feel himself opening, the slow sensation of plates shifting against one another, and the cords of hair around his legs slide close, leaving slick trails along the insides of his thighs as they move.

 

Even can feel the symbiote’s arousal now. It’s quieter than his own, a sharp note in the hazy background of his mind. It feels pleased, curling inside him in a way that makes Even moan again, his hips arching upwards as much as he’s able to. A strand of hair snakes around his waist, holding him tight as it trails downwards, and Even gasps.

 

He can barely move now, an excruciating thing as the cords of hair tease over his opening, so close. Even whines, his pleas muffled but understood well by the symbiote. He can feel the cords of hair twist together before they press into him thickly, setting a punishing rhythm.

 

Even tips his head back, his moans echoing, too far gone to attempt to keep quiet. The symbiote keeps letting through its' own sensation, letting him feel both sides, sensation looping and feeding back into itself until Even is writhing with it, cracking in the heat.

 

The symbiote curls in his mind again, and Even can feel the whisper of the dream in his ear. Cascabel, smiling down at him, Cascabel’s hands on him, Cascabel’s lips on him, Cascabel working with the symbiote to bring Even to this point, to the peak, and Even shatters.

 

The hair slips from his mouth, working him through the sensation until he whines, oversensitive. It lets him down from the ceiling slowly, letting him slide onto the floor. Even lets out a long breath, running a hand along his hair. He makes a face.

 

“Probably need a shower,” he says aloud.

 

The symbiote hums in agreement.

 

_ And then maybe I should call Cascabel _ , comes a thought.

 

He’s not sure who it comes from, himself or the symbiote, but it definitely sounds like a good idea.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
